


Renegade

by sirenofodysseus



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Gen, The Mentalist Reverse Big Bang 2013, Violence, h/c bingo square: fighting, zombie!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/pseuds/sirenofodysseus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Out in the woods, something sinister is brewing and Cho, unwillingly, becomes a hero. Written for the 2013 The Mentalist Reverse Big Bang. Inspired by the artwork of Agent_Era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Renegade

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't own anything. 
> 
> I also wrote this to fill the "fighting" bingo square on my H/C bingo card. :D

  
_The saints can’t help me now, the ropes have been unbound_   
_I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow’d ground._   


Howl, Florence & The Machine

“Our victim is a Jessica McCain, aged twenty-years-old,” Agent Wayne Rigsby explained to Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon, who continued to stare down at their exsanguinated victim. With her own black blazer sleeves bunched up to the nook of her elbows, she crouched down next to Jessica and eyed every inch of exposed pale skin. “Time of death is still unknown, as we’re the first on the scene. Sheridan Sheriff, Jean Caribe, tells me that Jessica was well-liked by the entire community and that she couldn’t imagine anyone killing the young girl, especially in the park.”

Kimball Cho pulled his eyes away from Lisbon to glance at Rigsby, who accompanied his sentence with an eye roll. Having already seen Jessica McCain, he could understand the reasons for the eye roll; Jessica was both young and beautiful, two traits that often stirred up some type of possible resentment within a community. Cho half-expected to hear a comment from Patrick Jane regarding the idea that everyone liked Jessica, but nothing came.

“Ah, silence,” Cho heard Lisbon say, lightly. “I never thought I’d be in my post long enough to remember what pre-Jane days used to be like.” He brought his eyes back down to Lisbon, only to find her grinning and relaxed. With Red John finally gone and behind bars, Director Gale Bertram had somehow managed to weasel Jane into taking a two-week vacation. While Cho didn’t exactly care about the circumstances surrounding Jane’s unexpected acceptance, he and Rigsby had overheard some of the interns Jane’s “off-kilter behavior”: “I heard Agent Lisbon told him they couldn’t be together—y’know, sexually—unless he left for two weeks,” Joanna Richards had theorized. Rigsby had given him a quick glance and had shaken his head; eyebrows lifted in amusement. If Lisbon had somehow been involved in Jane’s acceptance and compliance of Bertram’s order, Cho had a feeling that Lisbon would be with Jane instead of with them. “Too bad he’s returning today though. Bertram told me he’d tell Jane to head straight to this crime scene after noon.”

It was already 11:50, which meant they all had ten more minutes without Jane’s infuriating (and sometimes inappropriate) comments.

He continued to watch Lisbon, as she stood from her spot and faced them all with the crossing of her arms before she met his eyes. “Where’s Sheriff Caribe now?”

“She left; something about a disturbance call, boss,” Cho informed her, mirroring her stance. He heard her sigh and he fought to contain a small smirk at her impatience. “She said she’d be back in about…” The sound of someone clearing his or her throat from behind him effectively interrupted him and he turned to find harried Sheriff, Jean Caribe.

“I’m terribly sorry about my lateness, Agents,” Caribe apologized with a slight smile. Cho felt Rigsby’s elbow jab into his ribs, before he turned his stare on the younger agent. After their first encounter with Caribe, prior to Lisbon’s arrival and the disturbance call, Rigsby had sent him a brief text message about how attractive Caribe truly was. Plaited blonde hair, caramel skin and baby blue eyes, Jean Caribe certainly had a level of attractiveness about her that he couldn’t deny, but he just wasn’t interested in her. “I had a situation regarding one of my habitual offenders and our department is small, due to budget cuts.” Cho refocused his attention on Caribe, only to find her studying Jessica’s body with a frown. “We’ve never had a murder in Sheridan, Agents. The most I’ve ever dealt with is missing persons, as people in this town continue to disappear.”

“Any ideas on who might have killed her, Sheriff?” Lisbon asked, ignoring Caribe’s previous statement. Caribe shook her head.

“I wish had some ideas for you, Agent Lisbon, but no. Everyone loved Jessica, truly; she was a bright young woman, who had just accepted her place in some international internship. Jess and her parents were truly looking forward to that.” Cho heard Caribe sigh, his attention still fully on her. “Jessica was a pure and beautiful individual, who put her entire being into worshipping her God. Jess was studying to be our next preacher, after preacher Jonas McGreevy passed on.” He couldn’t figure out if Caribe was actually sad about Jessica’s passing or the idea that someone in her town had died, even after he watched her daub at her eyes with her fingertips. Cho had been around Jane long enough to know that the expression of sadness did not always match up to the dead victim; so either Jean Caribe was an excellent liar or she truly was sad about Jessica’s death. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. We need to catch her murderer…”

“Actually, there is something,” Lisbon interrupted and Caribe’s eyes went to Lisbon. “We need to speak with whoever found the body.”

“Forgive my absent-mindedness, Agents,” Caribe answered. “I happened upon Jessica’s body, due to my daily patrol here. Many teens use those woods,” she motioned behind her toward the Sheridan woods, “to get high and have sex. I was walking along the perimeter of the woods, when I spotted some ravenous activity in the sky.” Caribe took a deep breath. “I stepped closer, believing the object might be a dead animal. However, I wasn’t prepared to find crows and Jessica’s…” Cho watched her press her hand against her mouth and he glanced toward Lisbon. While he had become almost desensitized to the idea of death, especially after seeing the cruel actions from other humans both in the army and on the Serious Crimes Unit, he knew everyone still handled their first dead body differently.

Lisbon nodded. “Thank you. If you need it, you may take a moment to recollect yourself, Sheriff.”

“Thank you, Agent Lisbon,” Caribe replied, before she turned from them and Jessica’s body. “I think I’ll go speak with my deputy.” Cho watched Lisbon shake her head.

“Think she’s lying, boss?” Rigsby asked.

“Why would she be lying about stumbling upon the body?” Lisbon replied, incredulously. “I will remind you, like I constantly remind Jane; not everything is a conspiracy.” Cho said nothing. The idea of yet another dirty cop though, especially after the amount of CBI and FBI agents found helping Red John, made him dislike Rigsby’s question also. Not all cops were dirty or killers; only half of the Sacramento FBI field office, Visualize and the Professional Standards Unit within the CBI was. “Where’s Van Pelt?”

“Trying to find a coroner,” Cho explained, before he watched Lisbon grimace. “Our newest coroner, Dr. Cooper, is apparently already dealing with a narcotic crime scene at the moment.”

“I would believe a homicide would come first,” Lisbon answered and Cho shrugged. It wasn’t the first time that Bertram had prioritized a narcotics death over a serious crime, especially with the lack of funding in hiring coroners. “Tell Officer Pierson and Officer Friendly to stand over McCain’s body, until we can find a coroner.” Rigsby silently slipped away and Cho grimaced. “You’d think Director Bertram would be bending over backwards to help us close cases, but no. His golden boy isn’t here, so why should he do us any favors?”

“Apparently saving him from death gained us no favors,” Cho dryly responded and Lisbon snorted. “When or if Jane shows up, Bertram might send a coroner with him.” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s already twenty minutes after noon now.”

“Jane’s tardiness shouldn’t surprise either of us, really,” Lisbon said. “However, I’m surprised Bertram hasn’t called yet.”

“Give him time; he will.” Cho had a suspicion that Bertram would call in the next thirty or so minutes, as the Director kept an extremely close eye on them all. They obviously weren’t Bertram’s favorite unit, but his supposed “supervision” was retribution for being kidnapped at the hands of Red John. “He’ll need to know where Jane is.”

“I don’t even know where Jane is,” Lisbon answered. Cho doubted Bertram would be extremely thrilled with the answer of “I don’t know”, especially when it pertained to the location of Jane. “I suppose I could lie, but Jane keeps telling me that I’m a horrible liar.” He said nothing in response again and she sighed. “You think I’m a horrible liar too, don’t you?” Cho continued to glance at her, quietly. Lisbon and he had been friends for many years and still, he thought she was a lousy liar. Jane had been helping her get better, especially with his involvement in her poker games, but nothing could turn a pure saint into half a sinner. “On second thought, lying seems like a bad idea. He’s my boss.”

Cho nearly rolled his eyes at her words. Bertram probably expected them to lie about Jane’s whereabouts anyway. “Tell him Jane’s gone after an apple, boss.” He watched Lisbon’s mouth open slightly, before the shrill of her phone halted their conversation; her hand went for her pocket and with a quick sigh, she held the phone to her ear.

“Lisbon,” he heard her greet whoever was on the line, before her dark eyebrows furrowed together and her lips grew thin. “What do you mean he’s already here? He never actually showed up to the crime scene, Director.” Cho glanced to Rigsby, who eyed him from a distance of two feet away. “I think I would know what my own consultant looks like, sir. I’ve worked with Jane for almost nine years now; certain features tend to stick out in my…” She paused. “I am not calling you a liar, sir. I am…yes, sir. I’ll ask around.” Lisbon removed her phone from her ear and grimaced. “Jane’s apparently here. Have either of you seen him?”

“I haven’t seen him, boss,” Rigsby answered and Cho shook his head. If Jane had been there, all of them would have heard him. “Is Bertram sure…”

“Positive,” Lisbon replied. “Bertram said Jane came to his office, got the information on where we are and came straight out here.” She continued to furrow her brows, as she glanced around the park. “I don’t see his vehicle, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s possible Jane slipped past us all and went directly into the woods without a word.” Neither one of them could argue with her. Jane enjoyed his secrets and if he thought he could show them all up; he would, just for kicks.

“We’re searching the woods, aren’t we?” Rigsby asked and Lisbon nodded. “Why do I keep wearing new suits on days I have to either search through dumpsters or go hunting for a rogue consultant?”

“It’s truly a mystery,” Cho gave, dryly. Rigsby stared at him and Cho stared back, before he turned toward Lisbon. “Sheridan Forest is small; we could find him in about two hours, if we all search.”

“When Van Pelt was lost…” Rigsby started.

“When Van Pelt was lost,” Lisbon repeated, crossing her arms against her chest. “We had no idea where to begin. Here, we only have about 2.2 square miles to cover and if I know Jane, he’s probably balking at some raccoon by now.” Lisbon rolled her eyes. “We’ll all split up to search for him.” Rigsby opened his mouth and Lisbon shook her head. “No way. If I put you and Van Pelt together, the entire forest population might flee.” Cho watched with amusement as Rigsby closed his mouth and glanced down at his feet. “Cho, take Van Pelt and search the west side of the forest. I’ll take Rigsby and we’ll search the east part of the forest.”

“Yes, boss,” both responded.

Lisbon scowled. “I’m going to kill him.” She motioned for Rigsby to follow her, before she turned back to glance at Cho. “I don’t know how well the cell service will be in the woods, so we’ll just meet up in the center of the woods in about an hour or so.” He nodded again, watching them both disappear into the woods before he turned on his heels and stepped in the direction that Van Pelt had gone earlier.

“Agent?” Cho turned to find Caribe behind him. “Where did Agent Lisbon and Rigsby go?” Although Lisbon hadn’t said to debrief the Sheriff on their situation or on their plan, he figured she hadn’t wanted to keep the Sheridan Sheriff in the dark.

“One of our colleagues snuck into the woods…”

“You mean Patrick Jane?” Caribe asked and Cho nodded. “Mr. Jane asked me if Jessica had a secret hiding place in these woods and I told him I didn’t know.” He watched her frown. “He told me you all knew he was going inside the woods. If I had known…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cho dismissed her apology with his hand. Even if Caribe had known, Jane still would have slipped past them all and they would still all be searching the woods. “We’ll be back in about three hours.”

“I’ll tell the coroner to send the remains back to Sacramento,” Caribe replied and Cho nodded. “Good luck, Agent.” Caribe shot him a small smile, before she turned away and started back toward her Deputy.

“Good luck for what?” Cho heard Grace Van Pelt ask from behind him, and he motioned for her to follow him. “Is everything okay, Cho?”

“Jane’s lost in the woods. We need to find him, before Lisbon kills him.”

Van Pelt merely chuckled in response. “Lead the way then.”

* * *

The eerie silence, aside from the dried leaves crunching beneath their feet, made Cho feel rather uneasy as he and Van Pelt continued deeper into the heavily wooded area. The lack of wildlife or noises reminded Cho of the Blair Witch Project and Cho half-expected a group of three filmmakers following behind them, but from the lack of sounds around them, he knew they were alone.

He heard Van Pelt mutter something, but he ignored her ramblings. She had already tried to start a conversation once or twice, though his focus on the tasks ahead—finding Jane and conferring with Lisbon—had left both of her conversational attempts dying before they truly began. Cho heard her mutter something again and he cleared her throat, only causing her to respond with a question. “Are you sure we haven’t been this way yet?” He didn’t even bother glancing down at his watch to see how long it had been since had first asked this question. Cho said nothing to her. “It all looks the same.”

He almost stopped to glance at her, but instead, he continued past one of the larger trees. Obviously, the woods would look all the same—same trees, same leaves, and same vantage points—unless one looked closely, and Cho was looking closely. He had spent months hiding in wooded areas, back during his time in the army, so none of this bothered him. The Sheridan Woods, however, were much larger than any of them had predicted; and Cho wanted to kick himself for not re-consulting the map Caribe had handed him early on.

“Keep your gun out,” Cho advised. He heard Van Pelt’s hands tug at her holster, as he pulled his own gun out and continued walking. Van Pelt kept quiet, something he was truly thankful for; it wasn’t that he didn’t like her, it was the fact that something felt off about the woods. That feeling made Cho want to turn back, leave, but they had both agreed to meet Lisbon halfway, and if neither of them showed, a larger search party would occur. “If you hear anything, shoot at it.”

Van Pelt probably thought he had lost his mind, although his focus was on trying to get them both out of the woods alive. Cho doubted she thought anything was wrong, and though silence (to him) was the largest indicator that something sinister was at work; he knew Rigsby and Jane would have laughed at his superstitious side, so he said nothing about his concerns and kept walking.

Something rustled the bushes and Cho fired his first shot, without hesitation. The bush fell still and he moved forward, knowing Van Pelt was behind him, probably holding an expression of disgust.

“Shouldn’t we check…?”

“No,” Cho interrupted. “Whatever it was; the thing is dead now.” He just hoped Jane hadn’t been hiding in that bush, as explaining why their consultant was riddled with bullet holes was not, after all, how he wanted to lose his job. Cho heard Van Pelt move toward the bushes, before he heard her exhale sharply. “What?”

“You shot and killed a baby raccoon.”

Cho shrugged. “It shouldn’t have been in our way.” Regardless of how Van Pelt probably felt, her glaring at his back wasn’t going to bring the poor creature back. “Come on. We need to hurry.”

“…maybe we should turn back?” Van Pelt suggested, hesitantly. She looked exhausted, which he paid no attention to; it wasn’t his fault if she weren’t sleeping enough, because of her time with Rigsby. Cho stilled to stare at her, unimpressed. “I’m not frightened. Something just feels off about all of this…”

“We can’t leave him or them out there,” Cho replied. When Van Pelt had been lost out in the woods, they hadn’t just left her there. So why would any of them even consider leaving Jane behind?

“Cho, I’m not suggesting we leave them; I just think someone miscalculated the size of these woods.” Cho crossed his arms against his chest. “By going further in, we might never be found.”

Logically, Van Pelt was right.

However, it still felt wrong leaving anyone in the woods.

Cho turned on his heels and continued walking forward; he heard Van Pelt sigh in frustration behind him. “Do you not agree, Van Pelt?”

“I’ve watched enough horror movies to know better, Cho,” Van Pelt replied, walking behind him still. “Five friends go into the woods; four are murdered and one ends up being chained in a sewer by a knife-wielding maniac, who has secretly fallen for her.”

He nearly snorted at her overactive imagination. “This isn’t Friday the 13th, redone twenty different times. This is reality.” Truthfully, most of the books had read had better plots than that. “Everything will be fine, Van Pelt.” She said nothing to him and Cho rolled his eyes. He only wanted them both to be realistic, as using cheap horror movie plots weren’t going to keep any of them calm or rational.

Cho opened his mouth to warn Van Pelt of his suspicions, when he heard something crunch and a loud, piercing scream break the eerie silence. With his gun still in front of him, he quickly turned only to find Van Pelt on the ground.

“Van Pelt, are you…?” His eyes caught the reason for her screaming almost immediately; her left foot had become ensnared within a bear trap. Cho tucked his gun away and crotched down next to her, spotting the sharp metal jagging through her pale flesh with a frown. “Don’t move.” Van Pelt glanced up at him, a sour expression on her face. “I’m going to call Lisbon. You need medical attention.” Cho pulled out his phone and dialed Lisbon’s number, before he settled his hand on her knee.

“How bad is it?” Van Pelt asked him, her eyes closed. Cho said nothing, as he waited for Lisbon to answer her phone. After the fifth ring and the beginning of her voicemail message, Cho disconnected his phone and glanced back down at her mangled foot. He didn’t want to tell her how bad it was; the doctors, he knew, would take one look at her foot and remove the limb from her body. Cho kept quiet, however, because they both needed to stay focused and Van Pelt needed to stay conscious. “That bad, really?”

“You’ll need medical attention,” Cho confirmed, glancing at her face. “You okay?”

Van Pelt snorted in disbelief. “I’ve had a bear trap sink through my leg and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Her shoulders shook and Cho waited to see how she would react. “You won’t even tell me if it needs to come off or not.”

“I’m a homicide detective, Van Pelt, not a doctor,” Cho avoided her comment. “If you want a doctor’s opinion, we’ll get you one.” She fell back into silence and Cho moved toward her. “I can’t get Lisbon. Do you think you’ll be able to walk, Van Pelt?”

“I can try,” Van Pelt offered, moving to her knees. He watched her try to stand, only to fall back down on her knees and grimace in pain. “It hurts. I can’t.” Cho patted her knee again and she slumped to the ground, her eyes barely opened.

“Van Pelt, you need to stay…”

The sound of something gnawing in the bushes stopped him, as he pulled his gun from his holster and aimed it toward the bushes. The bushes rustled again and Cho traced the trigger of his gun with a watchful eye, when it emerged from the bushes. It, Cho noticed as he pulled the trigger and shot several rounds into the lifeless being, had blood red eyes and yellowed teeth; its skin partially decayed and its pure boned arm inching out toward him and Van Pelt.

Van Pelt screamed again, and Cho bend down to yank the bear trap off Van Pelt’s foot. He tried to ignore her screaming, her pleas for an end, as the bear trap finally came loose, and she slumped to the ground unconscious; her mangled foot remained behind, as her newly freed limb coated the right side of his body with red.

It lunged toward Van Pelt again with a moan. Cho pulled Van Pelt from the ground and threw her over his shoulder, before he took off running in the opposite direction. He could hear it in the background trying to follow them both, but he didn’t stop to fire another round.

Cho continued running, until he couldn’t run anymore.

* * *

Before his body collapsed due to a lack of oxygen, he moved Van Pelt’s unconscious body from over his shoulder to rest on the forested ground. The coppery scent of blood clung to his body and within his nostrils, as he moved to tear his red-stained white dress shirt aside, leaving his chest bare and exposed to the rapidly chilling night air.

Cho blinked twice. What in the hell had he just seen? He knew that thing couldn’t possibly be alive, but creatures of the dead couldn’t exist...or could they? Cho frowned, crossing his arms against his chilled chest. Everything he had just witnessed went against every logical thought within his head; undead things, he knew, didn’t exist and his eyes had just played an awful trick on him.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t get the sight of its red eyes or decaying flesh out of his head. Whatever he had seen wasn’t just an illusion; the beast he had shot several times was, undeniably, real and he and Van Pelt had almost become lunch for whatever the hell that thing was. Cho felt his insides dangerously twist, and he worked to calm his heaving breaths down; being in the military had prepared him for all sorts of horrors and feelings of guilt, but nothing had quite prepared him for the sight of that or the sudden loss of Van Pelt’s foot.

He avoided glancing at Van Pelt. Maybe he should have listened to her; if he had, she might still have had her entire foot and they wouldn’t be lost within Sheridan Forest either. However, guilt wasn’t going to help either of them, and so, he moved from his knees to focus on keeping them both alive. Although it was dusk, the clearing he had somehow stumbled into was lit just enough to where he could make out the resemblance of a water stream and a tent in the near distance.

“Anybody out there?” Cho called.

Silence was his only response and he slowly moved toward the lone tent; he had to know if anyone was also out here, trying to keep away from the hellish creatures as well. Cho lifted the edges of the tent up and stepped into the dark space. Using the light from his cellphone, he scanned the tent for survivors only to find plenty of canned goods, bottles of water, flashlights, weapons, a fully stocked first-aid kit and a small black journal, displayed atop the first-aid kit.

Cho picked up the small black journal and opened it; small, cursive print flowed on the pages and he flipped through the pages, until the heading of one caught his attention.

_To whoever finds this—_

_My name is Dr. Noah Duncan; I have been in these woods for six weeks, three days and four hours, according to the log I made after my cellphone died. Why am I writing this down? Because whoever finds this book needs to know, they are in grave danger of becoming what roams these forests at night._

_I call these things, “Mortuus Vivens”, as I refuse to call these creatures by their American-fied name. These creatures are not the cursed ‘Z’ name; they are, by far, much more sinister than their horror flick companions. They are obviously not God’s creation, but instead the byproduct of a doctor gone mad with the pressures of society. My fellow colleague, who I followed into these woods on a “special assignment” (we were asked to study the migration patterns of the monarch butterfly, again), suggested we set up camp in this exact spot._

_We did so and she disappeared, right after. I searched most of these woods for her, only to have discovered that my college was not in these woods for the butterflies. She was in the woods and had brought me along, so I could 1) watch whatever was unfolding and b) so I could eventually die. I accepted my fate without argument, but Dr. Jean Caribe refused to grant my request for a painless death, and she forced me into a twisted game of cat-and-mouse with her creations._

_For weeks, I hid. I ate berries, the carcasses of dead animals, and turned to eventually eating my own flesh to stay alive and alert. I am back in this tent now, however, because I am at the end of the life. I know my time has come, so I am using my last remaining time on this earth to expose Dr. Jean Caribe’s master plan and to warn you about her creations._

_Dr. Caribe wants to damn the human race, and the only way to do so (in her opinion) is by turning them all into flesh-eating demons. Caribe is a power hungry and manipulative woman, who will do anything to test her experiments until they can be unreleased into the world. That idea, alone, is probably why you’re here right now. Jean Caribe is unveiling the last stages of her plan and if she isn’t stopped, the entire world will ultimately become hers to send into hell._

_Now, onto her creations._

_The Mortuus Vivens are, without a doubt, dangerous creatures. With their red eyes, venomous body fluids and sluggish movements, these creatures are both hellish and fearless. Attracted to the blood of humans, Caribe has thrown traps everywhere in hopes of continuing her race from hell. If you or one of your party members is injured, my only suggestion is to run like hell. Bandages do not disguise the smell of blood to these creatures, so do what you can to stem the blood._

_Above all, avoid bites by one of these fear-smelling, mostly night creatures. As much as I dislike promoting folklore, Caribe’s creations do follow the same premise as an American-fied Zombie; having watched someone being injected with her serum, the venom slowly turns the bitten into one of her creatures and there’s no way back after that._

_Be safe, stay alive and I wish you (and your traveling companions) the best of luck._

_\- Dr. Noah Duncan_

Cho rescanned the letter with his eyes and cursed. His suspicions about Jean Caribe just had to be right, didn’t they? He had hoped he had imagined everything, but the note reminded him of two things.

One, he had really seen an animated and undead human being; and it had really tried to turn him and Van Pelt into another one of its brethren.

Two, Lisbon and Rigsby were still out in the woods, searching for Jane. They were most likely without a clue about the dark creations lurking within the forest, but what could he do? Cho can’t warn them, because he can’t leave Van Pelt. It’s the true definition of a Catch-22, which caused Cho to hit his fist against the table within the tent.

“Damn it!” Cho cursed again, stepping outside the tent and into almost pure darkness. He moved the light from his cellphone around; Van Pelt remained curled up on the forest ground and the forests around them were abnormally quiet again.

He could only hope, as he settled down next to Van Pelt, that both Rigsby and Lisbon would survive until morning’s first light.

* * *

Somewhere, between dusk and the first light of dawn, the sound of screaming caused him to shoot off the ground and nearly break his neck. Van Pelt muttered something, as he felt her clutching his leg, tight.

“What in the fuck was that thing?” Cho heard Rigsby’s voice from beyond the bushes; the man sounded both pained and panicked, which made Cho fear for the absolute worse. He escaped from Van Pelt’s hold (without waking her up) and stepped toward the bushes, his weapon in front of him again.

“Oh, god,” he heard Rigsby’s voice again. “Boss, you need medical attention.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Rigsby,” Lisbon, Cho could tell, was clearly scowling, which calmed his nerves. If she was scowling, it couldn’t be that bad. “Once we find Cho and Van Pelt, we’ll call Caribe for backup. I can’t go much further.”

“We’re not calling Caribe,” Cho finally advised, as he stepped into the bushes and met them both. “She’s behind whatever happened to you both. Did you find Jane?” The question tumbled from his mouth, before he caught sight of their blood-splattered conditions.

Rigsby stood before him, clutching at his chest with his red-stained fingers. His white dress shirt (also turned red) remained on his chest and nearly shredded in half. “I shouldn’t pick fights with squirrels, now should I?” Rigsby coughed and grimaced. “Why are you shirtless?” He ignored Rigsby’s question to glance at Lisbon, who stood against one of the trees with her eyes closed.

Lisbon’s shirt also remained in tatters and the entire light green shirt was soaked in blood of her own (he guessed, anyway). One of her arms hung at an odd angle, while the other arm was completely gone from her person.

“Lisbon?” Cho asked. Lisbon’s eyes opened, weakly. “What in the hell happened, Rigsby?”

He watched Rigsby sink to the ground, coughing again. “Where’s Grace? Is Grace okay?” It was a typical Rigsby reaction to ask for Grace, which made him feel slightly better.

“She’s missing part of her foot; I’ve left her just past the bushes, as I needed to know you both were okay.”

“Do we look okay to you?” Lisbon asked, dryly and Rigsby chuckled. “I’m missing my left arm and Rigsby has a giant gash across his chest. We’re the picture of perfection right now, aren’t we?”

“You both look like shit,” Cho commented, honestly. Lisbon met his eyes and grimaced. “I found a first-aid kit, and we have water over there,” Cho motioned past the bushes. “You need to wash the blood off you.” He had no idea how he was going to get the blood off Van Pelt, but he knew he’d figure that one out later.

Lisbon continued to grimace. “I’m not hoping into that water; especially not after having my arm blown off my body.” It was then; he took in the general states of their singed hairs and their soot-covered bodies, with a frown.

“No offense, man,” Rigsby commented also. “My chest is raw at the moment. Taking a swim is not something I want to do.”

“Do you want whatever attacked you to come back?” Cho asked. He watched Rigsby and Lisbon glance at each other in alarm, as if they had both discussed not mentioning whatever had happened out in the woods. “Then, go wash the blood from your clothing and I’ll join you with the first-aid supply kits shortly.”

He didn’t wait for them to say another word, stepping through the bushes again, to lift from Van Pelt from the ground. Cho watched her eyes open, slowly.

“I had the weirdest dream,” he heard her mutter. “We were lost in the woods, I lost my foot and something tried to attack us both.” She closed her eyes again and Cho said nothing. “I still have both of my feet…” He braced himself for the sounds of her sobs, but none came. “This is still a dream…”

“Van Pelt,” Cho couldn’t take listening to anymore of her delusions. “You need to remove your pants, and dip them into the water. You cannot smell of blood right now.”

Van Pelt’s eyes shot open and her breathing became rapid. “My foot…I really don’t have a foot?” He could feel her trembling against him and he brought her to the lake’s shore, before he lowered them both into the water without warning. Van Pelt hissed the moment the water hit her injury and she clutched onto him. “No-no more, please. I’m…I’m so sorry…I’ll…I’ll be better, I promise.” Cho frowned at her reaction.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Grace,” Cho said, gently, as he continued to hold her close. He didn’t normally do gentle, but he wasn’t about to distress her any further as he began to wash the blood from them both. “You’re going to be fine.” Grace continued to tremble in his hold, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. She stilled and he pulled them both, fully clothed, from the water. He placed her back on his discarded jacket, fetched the first-aid kit and returned to her. Quickly, he moved to pop a few painkillers in her system and wrap the injury to stem the chance of an infection from occurring.

“Thank you,” Grace muttered, softly. Cho nodded, watching her chest even out, until she had fallen asleep due to the painkillers coursing through her system. The sound of footsteps behind him caused him to turn to find both Rigsby and Lisbon soaking wet, which prompted him to hand over the space blankets he had found within the first-aid kit.

“How is she?” Rigsby questioned with his attention on Van Pelt as he pulled the blanket around his bare shoulders.

“She’s footless,” Cho gave, motioning toward her white bandaged leg. “How do you think she’s doing?” Rigsby had the audacity to look away from them both, while Cho rolled his eyes. He understood the need for most stupid questions, but the idea that Van Pelt could be anything other than in pain or terrified was a stupid suggestion.

“Both of you,” Lisbon chided, holding the blanket around her body with one arm, “knock it off. We all need to work together, especially now that two of us won’t exactly be able to do much.” Cho glanced at Lisbon. For the moment, he could tell, she was pushing her feelings away to view the situation with objectivity but there was only so much objectifying that could happen before she was forced to face the possibility that Bertram could take her job away from her for having one less limb now. “We’re lucky to be alive right now, so don’t do anything stupid until we know more.”

Cho cleared his throat. “I know enough. Jean Caribe is behind all of this; Jane’s disappearance, your injuries, the misinformation on the size of these woods.” He stared at them both. “She’s the owner of those things, which attacked us all in these woods.”

“How do you know this?” Lisbon asked. “Where is your proof?” He wordlessly brought out the journal and handed it to her, before he started bandaging her left upper shoulder. He finished bandaging her, before he heard her inhale sharply. “God damn it! Another crooked cop!”

Rigsby grimaced, as Lisbon passed the journal over to him. “It’s always the attractive ones too.” Cho didn’t want to burst Rigsby’s bubble by reminding him that Rebecca most certainly hadn’t been a looker. “Obviously, she needs to be arrested.”

“How?” Cho retorted. Rigsby blinked. “No cell signal, and we’re on her battlefield; Duncan, the scientist who owned these supplies, died here after a four week hunt. Caribe could keep us here for weeks and lie to Bertram about our whereabouts, as we didn’t tell him we were searching any woods for Jane.” He watched Lisbon grimace again. “If she tells him we left, he’ll put an APB on us all outside of this town and we’ll never be found. We’ll turn into mindless, undead creatures, only to obey Caribe.” Cho stepped over to Rigsby, who had finished reading the letter also, only to survey the man’s injury. “What in the hell did you two do? Fight with a sword and lose?”

They both continued to grimace, while Rigsby sighed. “We separated from you and went into the woods, only to realize my gun had been taken from me early on. We tried to call you, but there was no service and Lisbon handed me one of her off-duty weapons, as she felt something was off.”

“I hid in the woods as a child,” Lisbon explained, glancing at one of the trees. “I purposely separated from my father on different occasions to learn how to survive on my own; and no woods are this quiet.” He watched her shiver, as he continued to tend to Rigsby’s wound. “I prepared myself for many horrors in this job, but those things were not one of them.” Cho silently agreed with her.

“She had just given me her weapon when I took a step forward and boom! A bomb or landmine blew us both backwards; Lisbon and I hit a tree and a tree branch fell, severing her arm from her body.” Rigsby continued, glancing toward Rigsby with a frown. “I have never seen a tree branch do something so…ghastly before and I was taken aback.”

“In the midst of his distraction,” Lisbon added. “One of those things lunged toward me, its sharp fingernails slicing through Rigs’s skin.”

“It hurt like hell,” Rigsby commented, still frowning, before his eyes went wide. “Hey…you don’t think I’ll become one of those things, do you?”

Lisbon bit her lip. “You weren’t bitten.”

Cho shook his head. “It didn’t do anything, but give you a good-sized scar and a sight to cause enough therapy for years.” Rigsby relaxed almost immediately and Cho continued to wrap the bandage around Rigsby’s chest. “I’d be more worried about the chance of infection, to be honest.”

“So, no quarantine?” Rigsby asked with a chuckle. “Has mat suits give me the creeps.”

“Unless you begin to show signs of…” Lisbon paused and both men nodded. “We refuse to hold you down or murder you.”

“That’s comforting,” Rigsby said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I suppose.”

“It’ll be even more comforting if we all, Jane included, make it out alive,” Lisbon answered and Cho shook his head. “You want Jane to become a…?”

“No,” Cho interrupted. Jane was his “friend”, and wishing that upon any one seemed like an inhumane thing to do. Regardless of how many times Jane had endangered all of their lives, Cho wasn’t about to leave his in question. “The outcome is bleak.”

“Yeah,” Rigsby agreed. “But what can we do? We have to try and find him, otherwise he might become of those things.” He watched Lisbon roll her eyes.

“Not my point, Rigs,” Lisbon gave. “Jane is one of us and we’re a family.” Nobody said a word, and Lisbon spoke again. “Now, where do we go from here?”

“This is going to sound insane, but what if we stay here?” Rigsby offered, while he grimaced as Cho finished bandaging him. “We have a tent, some food,” Cho knew Rigsby’s eyes had gone to the can of beans, which they were most likely going to enjoy for lunch and maybe dinner, “and we have water. The living dead don’t like water, do they?”

“I wouldn’t know, Rigsby,” Lisbon’s scathing tone nearly caused Cho to chuckle. “I’ve never actually been chased by an angry horde of corpses before, and this wasn’t exactly taught to me in the academy.” He heard something splash the water. “If we stay in this clearing, we might as well be goners.” While they had perfect coverage, they were in an unknown territory with forests all around them. If anything snuck up on them, especially whilst they all were sleeping, they’d be easy pickings.

The warm, coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils again and he stepped back from Rigsby, who continued to grimace at the makeshift bandages across his chest. “Keep grimacing and your face might permanently stay that way.”

“You’re not the one with a giant gash across his chest,” Rigsby pointed out and Cho glanced to Lisbon, who rolled her eyes.

“I’m missing an arm. I somehow think you’ll survive.” At her sudden emotionless tone, Cho caught Rigsby’s eyes in concern. He had never lost any limbs before, but he knew from his old military friends that losing a limb could cause a variety of issues. Sargent Charles George, for example, had lost his left leg in combat and had spiraled into a deep depression. “What? I’m still alive, so no need for those looks.” Rigsby offered Lisbon a half-apologetic smile, before Cho glanced at Grace, who continued to remain silent.

“Sorry, boss,” Rigsby apologized. Lisbon waved his words away, while Cho moved to sit between the both of them. “So, what do we do from here then? If staying here is a dangerous thing, I can’t imagine what a second nightfall might bring.” Rigsby slowly glanced toward the brightening skyline, a frown on his face. Cho nodded in agreement. The previous occupant of the equipment hadn’t warned them against venturing out at night, but in the dark, they couldn’t see the traps that Dr. Caribe had set out for them all.

“We have water here,” Cho pointed out. “If we go further into the forest, there’s no guarantee that we’ll have enough water to survive.” The human body in full health could survive three days without water, while a human body with substantial injuries needed more fluids to replenish what had been lost. “Until daylight, we’re not going to see any of the traps and outrunning anything in the dark is nearly impossible.” Rigsby muttered his agreement.

“Someone needs to keep watch then,” Lisbon said, after a few moments of silence, and Cho nodded. “I’ll take the first shift.” He shook his head in response. “What? I’m not…”

“You need to rest,” Cho interrupted. If it weren’t for her injury, her taking first watch wouldn’t have concerned him; however, he knew she kept stifling yawns and her body was shivering. If the rapidly cooling air continued to wrap around her body, he had no doubts that she would eventually suffer from shock. “I’ll take the first watch.” Cho removed his weapon from his holster and moved away from the camp of three; from his spot against the trees, he could hear Lisbon and Rigsby arguing about taking watch and he shook his head. He knew it was difficult for Lisbon to step back and allow for someone else to take charge, but she had no other option. Lisbon needed her rest, as did Rigsby and Van Pelt. Regardless of what they all wanted to do, he was the only person who wasn’t injured or dealing with the shock of losing a limb.

Eventually, the arguing stopped and the unnatural silence returned. His eyes scanned the forested landscape before him and he steadied his finger close to the trigger on his weapon.

“Hey,” at Rigsby’s voice, he lowered his weapon. “I brought you something.” Cho eyed Rigsby, who presented a small Dixie cup of cold beans. “Lisbon said to share, so…” Cho accepted them with a nod of his head, and quickly shoveled the food into his mouth. The beans weren’t horrible, but they weren’t exactly good either. “I’ll leave you to eat in silence, okay? Do you need any water or…?”

“I’m good,” Cho answered, setting the cup aside. “Get some rest.” He watched Rigsby’s mouth move and Cho shook his head. “You’re injured too. I don’t care how many weapons you found within that tent; you’re not taking watch with me.” Rigsby’s actions weren’t much better than Lisbon’s, even if he could stifle his yawns a little bit better. If it weren’t for Rigsby’s shivering and the growing patch of red on his bandages, Cho wouldn’t have had a problem allowing the man to keep watch with him.

“I have this,” Rigsby removed the Browning Automatic .22 from the tattered remains of his white dress shirt, and Cho eyed him. “I’ve always been a fair sharpshooter, and sleep doesn’t sound appealing to me right now.” Sleep probably hadn’t sounded appealing to any of them, especially with the horrors that they had all witnessed hours ago, but sleep was something that would give them all enough energy to continue in the morning. “I’ll follow your instructions, I promise. Just don’t send me to sleep.” Rigsby’s bloodshot eyes told Cho that Rigsby had attempted to sleep, and more than likely, Lisbon knew nothing about the can of beans that Rigsby had used to weasel his way into keeping watch.

“Fine,” Cho answered.

“I wish we had a fire,” Rigsby commented, after another round of unnatural silence, as Cho heard the injured man settle down next to him. “It would have made those beans taste better.” Cho said nothing. The light dinner of cold beans hadn’t done anything for his nauseous stomach, but it had given him a little burst of energy. “I know I should be thankful that we had anything at all, but hey, a man can wish for a little more substance…” He said nothing again and Rigsby fell silent, the pale light from the moon casting shadows on his face. Twenty-four hours ago, he thought the most demonic creatures in the world were serial killers and rapists; now, they all had to deal with a new threat to their lives.

“You should be resting,” Cho told Rigsby, who merely shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve been cut badly.” He spared Rigsby’s bandaged chest a quick look. Even without being a doctor, he knew that the man was extremely lucky; a cut six inches over would have killed him instantly. Cho couldn’t even imagine working without Rigsby, who had become one of his closest friends on the job.

“And leave you to have all of the fun?” Rigsby asked, chuckling. Cho eyed him. No matter the circumstances, death wasn’t a joking matter. He had killed way too many in the army, and he wasn’t about to disgrace the dead. “I never thought any of this existed outside of video games, you know?” Cho watched Rigsby move his arm up to rub at the back of his neck. “Slow moving creatures, moaning about brains and blood; I never thought I’d be living in a video game.” Rigsby frowned. “Think we’ll make it out alive?”

For a moment, Cho said nothing. He appreciated bluntness and candor, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Rigsby the truth. Their outcomes looked bleak; little food, the injuries of both Van Pelt and Lisbon, and the lack of bullets to protect them all. Even if they all managed to survive, Van Pelt and Lisbon would be looking for new jobs.

“Your silence is reassuring,” Rigsby’s voice broke through the silence and Cho offered an appreciative glance. He didn’t want to think about their odds yet, he just wanted to survive until morning. “If anything does happen to me, and…” Cho heard Rigsby move, until he felt warmth on his earlobe “…I get bitten…”

Cho rolled his eyes. “They aren’t going to bite you.”

“But if it happens,” Rigsby answered and Cho stared at him. The idea that Rigsby was entertaining a plan in case one of the “living dead” bit him was purely ridiculous, if not a little imaginative. However, he also couldn’t bring himself to stop Rigsby’s rampant imagination. “I don’t want to become one of them.” He watched his friend shiver and Cho wondered what he was imagining. “If it happens, put a bullet through my brain and burn my body. Take care of Grace and Ben…” Cho glanced away from Rigsby, who seemed on the verge of a breakdown. “Tell them that I loved them and…”

“Tell them yourself; I’m not your messenger.” He heard Rigsby chuckle breathlessly and Cho blinked.

“What if you get bitten?” Rigsby asked, quietly. Cho continued to stare at Rigsby. He didn’t want to entertain the idea of any of them being bitten, but he had read enough post-apocalyptic undead stories to know Rigsby had a valid reason to make his last requests known; someone within their party of five wouldn’t make it out alive and whomever didn't had to be prepared for his or her death.

“Then I get bitten.” He had nobody, outside of the Serious Crimes Unit, that would toss up a fit over his “death”. “If it happens, do what you think is right.” Cho watched Rigsby nod, before his cumbersome figure settled back against one of the leafless trees. Within moments, he was sound asleep and Cho bent forward to remove the Browning Autoloader .22 from his hands. Rigsby muttered something about Grace, before Cho tugged his jacket from his shoulders and draped it over Rigsby’s shivering form to keep him warm throughout the night.

He wasn’t about to lose Rigsby to something as trivial as the elements, especially not after all the man had endured in the past sixteen hours. Fixing his eyes on the various shrouds of rustling bushes, Cho silently chalked both weapons and prepared himself for the long night ahead.

* * *

At the first light of dawn, Cho allowed himself a small yawn and glanced to Rigsby, who continued to sleep. The normally pale agent had regained a little bit of his pallor back during the night, which filled Cho with a small sense of relief; he had already buried enough friends to last him several life times, and the thought of burying Rigsby or Lisbon or Van Pelt sent waves of nausea throughout him.

The sudden sound of a fire crackling caused him to jerk his neck in the direction of the makeshift tent and prep his gun for fire. Daylight or not, he wasn’t about to let his guard down and ignore whatever was roaming around at the campsite. He stood from his spot and fired his gun into the sky, causing Rigsby to shoot up from his spot on the ground.

“I’m awake!” Rigsby muttered, incoherently and Cho rolled his eyes. “What are you shooting at?”

“I heard something,” Cho responded, before he moved toward the campsite. His eyes found the still-burning fire with nobody else in sight and he frowned; he doubted the creatures were complex enough in intelligence to create a fire, but anything was possible anymore. “I’ve got a gun.” He pointed the weapon toward the tent flap, which moved in the wind.

“Point the gun elsewhere or put it away,” Lisbon ordered, as she stepped from the tent. Cho complied with her orders. “I refuse to have another lost limb here, because Cho can’t keep from firing into the abyss.” He heard Rigsby chuckle at her response, and Cho said nothing; he knew they were all running high on adrenaline, but firing the gun was an excellent warning sign. If any of those creatures had been loitering around the campsite, his one warning shot might have saved them all.

He watched Rigsby glance around the campsite. “Where’s Grace?” Rigsby frowned. “I know I moved her inside the tent last night, before I found Cho.” It was Lisbon’s turn to remain silent and Cho eyed her, as she brought her only arm to rest against her chest.

“I have no idea,” Lisbon answered, grimacing. “I heard the fire crackling outside and had assumed one of you was helping her, only to hear the damned gunshot.” Cho bit back his retort. Was Lisbon suggesting that his warning shot had frightened Van Pelt off? The idea was almost laughable.

In all of the years he and Grace Van Pelt had worked together, he had never known her to be frightened of a gunshot. Grace had dealt with several homicidal boyfriends (and a fiancé), had dealt with a grumpy hooker for nearly twenty-four hours, and most recently, she had dealt with being held captive by Red John for almost two months. If she had gone through all of that and had come out still baring a smile, a little warning shot shouldn’t have frightened her away.

However, Grace’s odd behavior was certainly bewildering.

“Boss,” Cho addressed Lisbon, who glanced in his direction. “What’s wrong?” Lisbon’s lack of response was troubling to Cho, especially as the woman preached on and on about the importance of their “team being a family”.

“If something is wrong with Grace,” Rigsby added, “we do have the right to know.” Cho nodded in agreement, before he heard Lisbon sigh.

“After being held captive for two months, you both know she couldn’t remember any of it,” Lisbon explained, quietly. “Jane tried everything to help her remember, including a particularly bad hypnotism session.” Cho heard Rigsby scoff. After Jane had suggested hypnotism to Lisbon as a possible “therapeutic” release and had attempted the act on Van Pelt, Van Pelt’s moods had become bipolar. “Red John’s…treatment… had twisted her into something else. She became dangerous and her actions worried Jane and me for months after her rescue.”

Cho remembered the looks between Jane and Lisbon. He remembered Lisbon leaving her office door and blinds wide open, as the both of them leaned over her desk and discussed whatever kept them frenzied. It had just never occurred to him that Van Pelt was the reason for their constant exhaustion.

Lisbon continued. “Director Bertram wanted Grace in a psychiatric hospital, for constant surveillance; Jane and I disagreed. We thought we could help her best here and we did; we invited her out for lunch, we had her over at our homes, and we offered our ears.” Lisbon paused to glance at them both. “Last week, she approached me. She was having horrific nightmares about the things she had been forced to do in his hold, and she didn’t know how she was going to continue working with us.”

“That’s why you haven’t had her on the field lately,” Rigsby replied, quietly. Lisbon nodded. “You’ve been having her stay in the office, until you could discuss her future with the boss.”

“Yesterday, however, I needed someone to cover up for Jane’s absence. Director Bertram refused to send me coverage, so Grace was forced into playing the role of a “put-together” agent.”

“The gunshot startled her then,” Cho replied and Lisbon nodded. “I didn’t…”

“How were you both to know?” Lisbon asked with a frown. “She’s been flashbacking to her time with Red John quite often; and like Jane, she’s learned to mask what she can’t deal with yet.”

“If I had known…”

“Don’t,” Lisbon interrupted him. “You thought to protect all of us first, as you should.”

Cho said nothing.

“If Grace is lost out here…” Rigsby trailed off and Lisbon shook her head.

“She’s around here, somewhere.” Cho agreed with Lisbon’s statement. After all, how far could Van Pelt get with only one foot? He didn’t want to voice his opinion to Rigsby, as the man’s expression already looked quite thunderous. “She might return if we all act naturally, and begin to fix breakfast.”

Rigsby’s stomach growled at the mention of breakfast. “What are we having?” Count on Rigsby’s stomach to make everything “normal” for a moment, especially as the man hadn’t practically wolfed down two cans of beans last night.

“There’s not much in the canned food collection, aside from beans. I suppose though, I could find us some fish.” Cho glanced at her. How was she going to go fishing with only one arm? “Don’t look at me like that, Cho. I know my limitations right now, all right. I would like to believe I am still your fully-functioning boss, until the CBI or Bertram says otherwise.”

He blinked. “Sorry, boss.”

“Get over here and help me catch a fish.”

Without argument, he unbuttoned his cuffs and pushed his sleeves back to the nook of his elbows. After all, he wasn’t going to complicate things further by refusing to comply with her requests.

Lisbon moved to push the space blanket attached to her shoulders aside, before the both of them stepped into the chilled water and scanned for any sign of habitation. The good thing about her choosing him to hunt for fish, he quickly realized, was that he had done this many times before in the military. Of course, the circumstances of present and past were completely different; in the past, his hunt for fish had been a life or death circumstance. Presently, however, he could survive on the wild berries and water and know he’d be fine.

His three co-workers, on the other hand, needed all of the protein they could get. While Rigsby seemed more alert than last night, and Lisbon seemed to be more of herself; he still did not want to take a chance of any of them going into shock again.

“I’ve got one,” Lisbon’s voice interrupted him from his thoughts and he glanced at her. Lisbon had a massive wiggling fish in her one hand and she was attempting to fight the slight current in the water, so she could take the fish back to shore. Cho stepped over to her and gently took the fish from her hold, before wrapping his arm around her waist. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t fall, boss,” Cho responded, as he moved them both back toward the campsite. Rigsby stood feet from the fire and smiled at them both, especially at the sight of a fish in Cho’s hand.

“You caught some trout…”

“I caught some trout,” Lisbon corrected and Cho said nothing. Rigsby had the decency to look away, embarrassed at his mistake. “I can still do everything I did before…”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, boss,” Rigsby tried to pacify her. Lisbon scowled at them both, before she turned away and Rigsby glanced at Cho, helplessly. “Thanks for the help on that one.”

“You’ve dealt with Van Pelt in her moods,” Cho replied, eyeing his friend. “If you can’t handle Lisbon, then how do you plan on marrying any woman?” Rigsby had plenty of good qualities, but none of those qualities involved being “marriage-ready”; his relationship with Sarah Harrigan, for example, had tanked because he wasn’t quite ready to commit to one single woman (and Jane’s plan of “killing” him hadn’t helped seal the relationship either.)

“I’ve had more dates than you in the past year,” Rigsby pointed out. Cho continued to eye him.

“Mine lasted longer,” Cho retorted and Rigsby grimaced. Elise and Summer had both been long-relationships that had ultimately failed, because of his bad choices in life. Elise hadn’t been able to take the idea of being attacked again and he hadn’t wanted to slap Summer again, as the woman didn’t deserve it. “Can you skin a fish?”

Rigsby shook his head. “Not a skill they teach in the academy, so no.”

Cho sighed, inaudibly. “Come on then. I’ll teach you.” He didn’t wait for Rigsby’s answer, as he stepped toward the campfire and grabbed one of the sharpest knives from the ground. Rigsby said nothing before Cho held the knife out toward him, which caused Rigsby to stumble backwards and press the small of his back into one of the sequoias.

“Sorry,” Rigsby apologized, softly, after a moment of silence. Without a word, Cho watched the younger agent reclaim the knife from a short distance with trembling hands; Rigsby’s behavior worried Cho slightly, although he had a feeling of what troubled the young agent. “I just see the blade and I think of their fingers again and…” Cho watched Rigsby’s eyes widen, before his breathing quickened and Cho moved closer to his friend.

“They’re gone, Wayne,” Cho replied, softly. “They won’t touch you again, okay?” Rigsby said nothing. In response, Cho merely pried the knife from Rigsby’s grasp and skinned the fish himself. “I’ll let you get the next one, I promise.”

* * *

Sometime around Rigsby’s third mouthful for cooked fish, Cho heard a garbled sound of “Grace!” come from his mouth. Bits of chewed (and saliva-covered) fish flew from Rigsby’s mouth and coated both himself and Lisbon, who had her teeth clenched to keep from losing her temper with the younger agent’s lack of “proper etiquette”.

“We need to find Jane,” Lisbon said quietly to him, as he silently surveyed the reunion between Van Pelt and Rigsby. “We might have plenty of food here, but Jane doesn’t.” Van Pelt glanced in his direction for a split second and he offered her a slight smile, which she returned. Rigsby seemed oblivious to their small exchange, which nearly caused Cho to roll his eyes. “However, Van Pelt can’t walk.”

“If she stays here,” Cho commented, “she’ll be dead before nightfall.” Lisbon said nothing. “Those creatures will go after the weak, and we both know they’d go after her before us.” The lack of her foot didn’t make her weak; but Red John’s continuous presence in her life did.

“So we either take her with us or we let her die,” Lisbon replied and Cho nodded. “What a shitty choice.” He said nothing and she continued to speak. “I want to remain optimistic about everything, but you know…”

“I do,” Cho interrupted her.

He knew their chances of living.

He also knew their chances of dying.

And the way he saw it, none of them would find Jane—alive. It was a feeling he’d been compressing for almost twenty-four hours, and from the sour look on Lisbon’s face, he knew she was thinking along those same lines also.

After all, Jean Caribe letting them all leave the woods—alive—would make no logical sense. If she had killed her partner, he knew one (or more) of them wouldn’t make it out of the woods alive.

“Lisbon,” he started.

“I don’t want to hear it, Cho,” Lisbon interrupted, shaking her head. “We’re going to find him and everything is going to be okay. We’ll get out of this, go back to the CBI and we’ll solve crimes.” He wanted to agree with her. He wanted to support her thinking.

However, he couldn’t and he wouldn’t, as her line of thinking would condemn them all to death.

“Rigsby, Van Pelt,” Lisbon called, gaining the attention of both agents. “We’re finding Jane today. We’ll be out of this forest by nightfall, I promise.”

Cho knew her promise was moot. If she couldn’t promise them safety or protection, they all knew her idea of “nightfall” was ambiguous; they would either walk out, alive, or they would be rolled out in black body bags.

Either way, Cho thought as he moved to recollect his vast arsenal of weapons from near the tent, we’ll have to be prepared for our deaths.

In all of his years as a military official and as a CBI agent, he had always found that the acceptance of death was one of the hardest things to accomplish as a human being.

“Hey Cho,” Rigsby’s voice broke through the eerie silence, as the group of three followed behind Lisbon. Van Pelt was sound asleep on Rigsby’s back and Cho merely moved his head to acknowledge Rigsby’s conversation. “Caribe said her station deals with plenty of missing persons. Do you think…?”

“Yes.” He had no doubts that the rash amounts of missing persons within Sheridan had something to do with Jean Caribe and her “experiments”. Cho had also figured out, nearly thirty minutes into their forest scouring, that their involvement into the Jessica McCain case had been purely accidental. “McCain was an experiment gone wrong…”

“Caribe had never killed any of her experiments before,” Rigsby continued, as they kept trekking through the forest. “Jessica, leaving the cult-community that is Sheridan town, was prime pickings for a scientist, who knew she had to stop her secrets from escaping.” Cho rolled his eyes. Rigsby had one hell of an overactive imagination, but at least, his story kept the eerie silence at bay. “So, she lured Jessica into the park and their conversation went awry. Jessica swore to expose Caribe and Caribe, angry, drained Jessica of her blood to be used in the creation of her demons…”

Lisbon paused in her tracks to glance back at them both. “Conjecture, really? Rigsby, this would be something I expect from Jane.” Rigsby sheepishly grinned and Lisbon sighed. “There’s one problem with your theory, however.”

“What?” Rigsby asked, hastily. “Jessica McCain was murdered to keep her silent.”

“Unless McCain stumbled upon Caribe’s secret on the outside of the forest,” Cho corrected him quietly, “I doubt she knew anything about the experiments.” Lisbon nodded her agreement. “I’d say Caribe was luring her into the forest, but it wasn’t to keep her quiet; it was to continue her experiments.”

“Whatever the story is,” Lisbon continued, “I’m not enjoying the painted picture. Either way, I wouldn’t wish Jessica McCain’s fate on...”

“Or she’s not really dead,” Rigsby interrupted and Cho blinked. “I know it sounds insane, but hear me out. We found Jessica McCain’s body at day; we had no idea about these things until after nightfall when they attacked us all. We’ve been in here for two nights and three days now, so it is possible that Jessica’s body has arisen and…”

“This is not Dawn of the Dead,” Lisbon scoffed. “This is real life.”

“And these creatures aren’t real enough for you, Lisbon?” Rigsby fired back, crossing his arms against his chest. “If these creatures didn’t rob you of your arm, then what do you chalk that up to? Fate? Bad karma?” Rigsby paused for a second, before uncrossing his arms. “God?” He heard Rigsby snort. “Yeah, your all-seeing and powerful God. Where is he now, Lisbon?” Lisbon said nothing, as her hand went around her crucifix. “I can tell you where he is! He’s laughing at us, right now, while we scramble around like little lab rats.”

Cho blinked twice.

Lisbon’s expression darkened, before she narrowed her eyes. “My faith is not a topic up for discussion…”

“It isn’t?” Rigsby asked, scowling. “We’re talking about zombies, Lisbon! Actual flesh-eating creatures of the night, and yet, you still hold onto your faith…?” Cho stared at Rigsby and shook his head. Exhausted or not, some topics were just completely inappropriate to discuss with anyone. “I understand needing something to believe in, Lisbon, but God can’t save us now. I’m not even sure our weapons are going to do us much good either.”

He watched Rigsby’s shoulders sag, and Cho silently maneuvered Van Pelt onto his back. If they were going to argue, he was going to let Van Pelt have a decent amount of comfort until they were finished.

“I know,” Lisbon replied, softly, still clutching onto her crucifix. “But I have to believe we’ll make it through; we didn’t survive everything with Red John, only to be eaten or turned.” She frowned. “Faith has gotten me through many things, Wayne. I’m not going to apologize for praying that we’ll all be safe.”

Everyone grew silent.

“I’m sorry,” Rigsby replied, quietly. “I should have never…” Cho watched him rub the back of his neck and swallow. “I’m worried. I can’t leave my son without a father, Lisbon. I refuse to become my father.” Lisbon hand moved slightly, and Cho knew she wanted to comfort him—but Teresa Lisbon had never been a touchy-feely type of person.

“We’ll make it out,” Lisbon answered. “We’ll find Jane, and everything will be fine. We’ll go home and laugh about this later.”

The lack of a promise, however, didn’t go unnoticed.

Lisbon took a step forward. “Come on. We’re almost at the end of the forest, I believe.”

Each of them took another step forward; and not before too long, all of them were rolling down a steep incline.

“Is everyone okay?” Lisbon asked, after she had regained her footing at the bottom of the incline. Cho stared up at her from the forest floor, before he slowly stood and turned toward the incline they had all rolled down. “Yeah, we’re climbing back up that.”

“We’ve hit the end of the forest though,” Van Pelt’s voice replied quietly and Cho glanced down at her. “I see a cave and nothing else beyond the cave.” Everyone turned to glance at the ominous cave and Rigsby groaned. Cho continued to eye Van Pelt. “It’s a symbol, isn’t it?”

“Of what?” Rigsby asked.

“Of our…”

“No,” Lisbon interrupted. “It’s just a cave.” From the corner of his eye, he watched Lisbon turn on her heels. “Even in best shape, climbing back up this incline would be nearly impossible.” He heard her sigh. “Staying here, however, is not an option…”

“Exploring the cave shouldn’t be an option either,” Van Pelt replied. “We have no idea how large the cave is, or what lurks within.” In the open, it was still daylight; they could avoid the creatures. In the cave, darkness was everywhere; and avoiding the creatures wasn’t going to be nearly as possible. “We were fooled into believing that these woods were small. I’m not going into the cave, only to find out that we can’t get out.”

“The longer we’re in the open, the more danger we’re in,” Lisbon explained. Rigsby nodded in agreement. “Caribe is developing her experiments; what if she’s somehow harnessed the power to make her creatures attack during the day?” Cho hoped not. Caribe’s creatures already seemed powerful enough. “I’m not saying she has, but it’s a possibility we have to consider.”

Rigsby nodded. “I’ll stay out here and keep watch.” Van Pelt lifted her own hand.

“I’m not going to be much help in there, boss,” Van Pelt quietly responded, before Lisbon turned to him and eyed him.

“Are you going to keep watch too?”

“No,” Cho answered. “We need to find Jane.”

Lisbon nodded and smiled, grimly. “If we don’t come back in before nightfall, leave.” Rigsby opened his mouth to argue when Lisbon shook her head. “You would both be in the greatest amounts of danger, if you didn’t run. I’m asking you both to leave, because what else could you do for Cho or I?”

“Put you both out of your miseries,” Rigsby responded and Lisbon rolled her eyes.

“You have a limited amount of bullets; don’t waste them on something stupid,” Lisbon chided. Rigsby blinked. “Get yourselves out of here first and don’t worry about us; just continue on with your lives and know you tried your best.”

“But we…”

“You did,” Lisbon interrupted, softly. “You did.”

Everyone grew silent.

“Okay,” Rigsby replied, before he bent down and wrapped his arms around Van Pelt. Van Pelt struggled in his hold and Rigsby shook his head, his lips finding Van Pelt’s forehead. “They’re right, Grace. There’s nothing we can do.”

“This isn’t right!” Van Pelt cried, struggling. “We can’t let them die, Wayne! We can’t…”

Lisbon glanced down at Van Pelt. “You were a good and kind agent, Grace. It truly was a pleasure working with you both.” Without another glance at Van Pelt or Rigsby, Lisbon motioned for Cho to follow behind her.

Amidst the sounds of Van Pelt and Rigsby calling for them to come back, they ventured forth into the darkness.


End file.
